Memento Mori
by JDPhoenix
Summary: <html><head></head>After a battle Hermione wakes with no memory of who she is. Now she tries to piece her life back together while getting revenge on the people who did this to her, the Order of the Phoenix.</html>
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I in any way associated with, Harry Potter. No profit is made from this work.

**Memento Mori**

Bellatrix hates her, but then Bellatrix hates almost everyone who isn't the Dark Lord so it's not very surprising or off-putting. That everyone else hates her is a bit of a surprise. Lucius will not speak to her unless forced. Narcissa is kind in her own way, which mostly involves leaving her in the care of a house-elf. Draco is who she focuses on though. They are of the same age, the youngest to sit at the Dark Lord's table, and surely they must have known one another.

"We did," he says when she finally corners him in the gardens. "Not well, but we knew each other." He's staring at the roses and she honestly cannot imagine a boy caring so much about flowers. He's hiding something. That, or he hates her too. She recognizes the sneer he throws at his aunt's back better than the forlorn expression he wears most often so she imagines it's how she knows him best.

"I was in Gryffindor." She says the words slowly, pulling the knowledge from deep in her mind.

The pale hand that's lifting one of the roses jerks and he pulls back with a hiss. She sees blood dripping from his finger and watches in perverse fascination as it falls to the gravel beneath their feet. He pulls a handkerchief out of his coat and begins to awkwardly tie it one handed. Hermione huffs and steps close to him. She doesn't miss the way he starts when she invades his personal space or the way he flinches away when their fingers touch as she takes the cloth from him. She's careful to avoid touching his bleeding hand directly and once she's done, steps away further than before.

"Is that why everyone hates me? Because they're all Slytherins and I'm a Gryffindor?"

"Wormtail-"

"Don't you dare compare me to that rat!" she snaps. It's a surprising sound. She supposes it's more natural now than it was when she first woke up in the Manor.

Then, she was afraid and lost and couldn't even remember her name. She remembers fighting Narcissa's surprisingly strong arms holding her down and Severus' sleeping draughts. Every muscle ached and it was a week before she could sleep peacefully even with the potions. When she was recovered enough to walk she was taken to the Dark Lord and he told her what had happened, how she'd been attacked and Obliviated by the Order. It took a month before she stopped jumping at the sight of dark cloaks and masks. Her nightmares continue but she imagines they are her mind trying to break through the spell that keeps her memories beyond her reach.

Draco inspects her and she knows he's searching to see if she remembers anything she hasn't said.

"We hate each other," he says finally and she takes note of the present tense. "You were always the best in every class and I hated you for it."

"But why did I hate you?"

He shrugs and walks away. Over his shoulder he says, "Because I hated you first."

It's a horrible reason to hate someone, especially for a Death Eater. She will have to find a real reason.

* * *

><p>She is given tasks - magical items that need repairing, curses that need undoing - and she finds she has a good head for problem solving. She enjoys spending her time in the Malfoys' library, reading through old books of enchantments. She is never disturbed there and is soon staying up all night in search of just the right spell.<p>

Some books she swears she's read before but can't remember what comes next until she reads the words. It's enough that she starts setting those books aside. No matter how certain she is that they hold the answers she wants, she will not read them. Either she will find the answers in other books or she will remember them.

She never remembers.

The work gives her something to focus on and for that she is grateful. When they thought she was too weak and fragile to work, all she had to do was think about the life she can't remember. Sometimes she'll see a name or a word that jogs her memory only to have it slip away and she works harder. Small as her job may be it will hurt those who took everything from her and she wants that more than she wants to remember.

* * *

><p>Exactly one month after her first solid memory, an ugly orange cat wanders into the Manor. It saunters past the Death Eaters guarding the doors, slips into the dining room where the Dark Lord is holding a meeting, hops up on the table, and swishes its tail at Nagini. While the snake is still hissing in rage, the cat makes a beeline for Hermione and forces its way into her lap, where it curls up as if it owns her legs.<p>

She is about to say that she has no idea what the creature is and where it came from, but Wormtail speaks first.

"Always hated that cat."

The cat leaps to its feet and hisses menacingly at the man. Nagini seems to approve of this, as she stops stalking the cat and instead returns to her master's arms. The Dark Lord chuckles as Nagini wraps herself around his shoulders and the meeting resumes.

Hermione does not recognize the cat but she knows that her dreams are easier that and every night the beast chooses to remain in her bed. She enjoys having him around and her hands remember how he likes to be petted even if she does not. He sits with her most days while she studies and chases vermin she cannot see. She hopes one day he will catch Wormtail.

* * *

><p>Severus comes to see her once a week. To examine her, he says, and it pops into her head that he is a powerful Occlumens, second only to their lord. She tells him when it happens and he stares at her for a long time before saying, "Your memory is still intact, it seems, only you are barred from it." He does not say if this is good or bad, only that it is.<p>

He never reads her mind, not that she notices, and always leaves her with a sleeping potion and strict instructions to only take it after a nightmare awakens her, never before bed. Whenever he does this he watches her, frowning as if he expects something from her in return.

She likes his visits not because she enjoys having her borrowed Manor room filled with the smell of foul herbs or because Severus is nice, (she does not and he is not,) but because while they have their tea beneath her window she knows he will answer all of her questions honestly, no matter how painful or dissatisfying the answer. He is the one who told her that her parents are missing. When she asked about school, thinking lessons and friends would be better than a house that is not a home and no one to talk to, he told her that the Dark Lord wanted her close at hand, though he could not tell her why.

In their first meeting since her talk with Draco she asks, "Why did I hate him?"

Severus raises an eyebrow and she knows he's taken note of the past tense. "Children hate one another for many reasons, not all of them good, but many of them long-lasting." This is the wordiest answer she has ever gotten out of the man and decides that Draco is a promising topic of conversation.

"Was I really better than him in all our classes?"

"Yes. Try not to rub it in. He is having a difficult time."

She remembers Draco's somber expression and the way he sometimes looks as though he might cry for no reason at all.

"Why isn't he at school?"

"That," Severus says slowly, "is complicated. I think there are very few places he would wish to be less than here."

"Does the Dark Lord want him to stay, like me?"

Severus nods. "That is part of it, yes. Draco must prove himself."

She has more questions than ever now but Severus stands to leave. He hands her the small vial of sleeping potion and waits, as always, for a response she does not have. When ten seconds tick by and nothing, he nods curtly and leaves. She pushes her windows open to get rid of the smell and sits in the window to watch darkness fall over the hills.

* * *

><p>The cat is missing, as he often is, and Hermione is curled up in her bed, reading an old diary she found hidden behind the herbology tomes. It's getting dark and she should get up to light the lamps but a dragon has just appeared and she cannot tear her eyes away from the book, even if her eyes are beginning to hurt.<p>

The door opens and Narcissa breezes inside. The lights go up and the woman sets a box on the tea table before going to the dresser.

"What?" Hermione asks quietly. "Mrs. Malfoy, what's-" Her darkest robes come flying at her and she catches them, giving the clothing only a cursory glance before frowning at Narcissa.

The woman returns to the table and takes the box in her hands as if to lift the lid. She pauses, her expression shuddered, before opening it. Curiosity gets the better of her and Hermione stands so that she can see what Narcissa has brought. A pale silver mask stares back up at her and a thrill races up her spine.

"You'll be coming with us tonight," Narcissa says. "Put those on and sit. I'll do your hair so that it doesn't get in your way."

Hermione rushes to do as she's told and tries not to think what it means that Narcissa watches her sadly in the mirror.

* * *

><p>She's fought before. She knows that now. Spells fall from her tongue on instinct and she knows when to duck and hide and dodge. Her breath is stuffy in the mask and she worries she's becoming lightheaded, but Narcissa told her not to take it off <em>under any circumstances <em>so she soldiers on.

Bellatrix is fighting a centaur and a man so big he must be at least half-giant. Hermione rushes to help, smiling behind her mask because she knows Bellatrix will hate her even more now.

"Reducto!" a girl's voice shouts and something slams into Hermione, knocking her down so that the spell flashes over her and hits a tree.

Woodchips rain down and through the dust Hermione looks up to see who saved her. He wears a blank mask like her own, but the blond hair falling over the top means it can only be Draco.

"Thank-" He is gone before she can finish.

* * *

><p>She finds him in some sitting room which she's sure has a name but she doesn't care to know. His feet are up on an end table, balancing him so that his chair can stand on only its two back legs. His head is falling back, his eyes closed peacefully. The cat rests on his stomach, enjoying the slow circles Draco draws along its spine. Draco's other hand is mirroring the motion on his own chest, pressing firmly and slowly. Hermione watches, unwilling to move from the doorway. The collar of his half-open shirt falls and she sees the scar.<p>

"Oh!" she gasps, realizing that that's what he's massaging. The front legs of the chair slam into the ground and Draco whirls to his feet, sending the cat tumbling to the floor. It rolls, hissing, to its feet and stalks over to a couch.

Hermione crosses the room and pulls back one side of his shirt. The wound is long and straight, she can see from the way it's healed that it was made by a very dark spell. Draco steps back and swats at her hands. She tries to follow but he grabs her wrist to keep her from examining further. He freezes, his grip tightening. She looks up at him but his head is bent, his bangs hanging raggedly down and blocking his eyes from her view. He twists her arm to the left and she realizes he's looking at her Dark Mark. His mouth opens into a small O of - awe? surprise? concern? - and he lifts his free hand, extending two fingers to touch it. His hands fall away from her just before he makes contact and he steps back.

"What do you want?" he asks brusquely.

She falters. For a moment all she can think is that she wanted him to follow through and touch her, but then she sees the scar peeking through the folds of his shirt and remembers.

"To thank you. You saved me last night."

He shrugs and returns to his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward so that he can meet the cat's eye. He makes small noises meant to entice the creature and Hermione is instantly furious that he cares more for her familiar than her. Maybe, she thinks, it really is enough to hate someone for hating you first.

"Fine," she says huffily and marches to the couch so that she can pick the cat up. "Come along, cat," she mutters, hugging it to her. She's not about to let Draco win, not even a little.

When she's in the hall she hears Draco's quiet, "His name is Crookshanks," and bites back a scream of frustration.

* * *

><p>"Were my parents Death Eaters?"<p>

"No," Severus says without hesitation.

She mulls that over. She'd thought they were, that she was born to this like Draco. His life doesn't fit her but she keeps trying to make it. She imagines her parents coming from old wizarding families. Her mother would be quietly loving like Narcissa, her father a bit warmer than Lucius. But it's all wrong. Her parents are nothing like the Malfoys. She knows this just as she knows that Snape is an Occlumens, that Crookshanks prefers salmon to tuna, that she is a Gryffindor.

"The Order hurt them though. In retaliation for something? That's why I …" She trails off, turning her left arm so the Mark shows.

Snape slowly lifts his eyes from her arm to her face. "Yes. I believe a member of the Order - took them from you."

She looks away, towards the window. Draco is on the lawn outside, putting his eagle owl through its paces. Even from this distance she can tell he's happy. It's in the way he carries himself. Whatever it is that makes him sad all the time is lost to him while he trains his familiar. Why should he be unhappy when he has a home and a family?

"Some things are not so much being kept from you," Severus says and Hermione realizes she asked the question aloud, "as they are simply not being discussed."

"I want to know," she says. She's angry but she refuses to admit why even in her own mind.

"You will have to ask him then."

* * *

><p>She's allowed on more missions. The Order is fierce but every time she sees them she thinks only of the great void where her memory should be and fights even harder. She knows she's becoming wild. There's talk that she might be getting her own mask soon, one to show she's a member of the Dark Lord's inner circle. Bellatrix even smiled at her approvingly once.<p>

She doesn't care - okay, maybe some small part of her wants the mask - but really all she wants is to make the Order hurt.

It's on her third mission that it happens. This is an especially dangerous one because of the full moon. Greyback has been known to go a bit mad himself and everyone knows the Order has their own wolf. Before they go out someone mentions him being an old friend of Wormtail's. A few people chuckle under their masks and Hermione knows this is a joke she's forgotten. Just another thing to hate the Order for.

She comes out stronger than usual, flinging curses and hexes until almost everyone from her own side is forced to move away or get caught by a wayward spell. She recognizes the cry of "Reducto!" from her first fight and rushes through the forest in search of the Order member. Revenge for something she can remember might be more satisfying. She just catches sight of red hair when something slams into her.

This time it's not Draco.

Her wand is lost in the fall and the werewolf snarls at her. Its jaws snap and saliva splatters her face. She knows now this is the Order's wolf. Greyback would never wait so long to bite.

Suddenly it goes oddly still above her. It sniffs, digging its muzzle into her hood, before backing off of her with a low, keening whine. She sits up, watching it in confusion. It looks like a dog that's just been kicked.

She gets that feeling like something's just beyond her memory's reach and almost opens her mouth to ask the werewolf what's wrong, mad as that may be. A wayward curse slams into the ground between them and Hermione rolls over, scrambling for her fallen wand. She doesn't see what becomes of the wolf and doesn't even know if he survives the battle. She tells herself she doesn't care.

* * *

><p>Her nightmares aren't getting any better. She spends one night tossing and turning, too afraid of what might come to allow herself to sleep. At half-past-one she finally kicks off her blankets, pulls on her robe and slippers, and heads out into the dark Manor. There is nothing she can meet here that is so scary as her dreams.<p>

She wanders aimlessly, allowing her feet to take her where they will. She pads silently down the second floor portrait hall. The paintings are all asleep and though the floor-to-ceiling windows offer a gorgeous view of the gardens during the day, on a night with no moon there is little to see. Except, she realizes with a start, for the light bobbing along the back hedge.

She's running before she quite realizes what she's doing and giggles when she reaches the doors to the garden, thinking it must be the Gryffindor in her.

The gravel crunches noisily beneath her feet and she winces with every step. A silencing charm wouldn't work out here since every bit of gravel is separate from every other. She's sure some paranoid Malfoy once planned it this way and curses him in his grave.

She makes her way along twisting paths through perfectly manicured beds of flowers, stopping at a break in the back hedge. There is the tiniest bit of light breaking through the distant trees and getting steadily weaker. She runs across the lawn, not wanting to be out in the open.

Fifty feet into the trees she realizes she's following some sort of path. It's overgrown but most definitely there. Another few hundred feet and the trees open up, revealing a small building with a domed roof. An observatory. She smiles at the sight of it.

She's so entranced by the little building that she forgets to hold her wand at the ready when she enters. The inside is dimly lit by small globes of magical light, built into a mosaic on the walls that reminds her of "Starry Night." She takes no time to be glad that she's remembered the name of a random painting - there's no one to be seen and she hurries to the telescope.

"It was a gift," Draco says, startling her before she can look at the stars. He's come out of a small alcove she hadn't noticed behind the door and is carrying rolled up star charts. He moves to put them on the table at the back of the room. "The Blacks have always had a love of astronomy. Father had this built for Mother as a wedding present."

It's somehow terribly romantic, though that's not something she's ever associated with the Malfoys before. They're so emotionally restrained, even in their own home - but maybe that's just because she and the other Death Eaters are there, intruding in what should be a private space.

"Who's Sirius Black?" she asks suddenly. The name has popped into her head and she can't remember why it's so important.

Draco stares at her for a long time before answering. "My mother's cousin," he says and goes to the telescope, lining it up carefully.

"Is he with us?"

"No. And he's dead."

"I'm sorry."

He looks up at her sharply, instantly angry that she would say such a thing, but she won't take it back, no matter how much it hurts his pride.

"Is this why?" she asks before he can speak. "Is this why you hate me? Because you can't stand to have anyone feel for you?"

He gives one firm shake of his head and coldly says, "No."

"Then why? And why did you save me? If you hate me, why would you save me in the battle?"

"We were wearing masks, I didn't know-"

"Don't lie to me!" she yells and it echoes off the walls of the room like thunder.

Draco straightens slowly. His throat works silently while he stares at her and she knows she's finally going to get a real answer from him.

"I feel responsible for you."

"Because my parents are gone?" she asks, confused. "Because I don't remember anything?"

He shakes his head. "No, I -" His next words are so quiet that she has to ask him to repeat himself. "I'm the reason you're here, all right?" He says it like it's some horrible crime and she doesn't understand why.

"You- you brought me back? You found me?"

He's got that look again, like he might cry, and it hurts because it's never once been directed at her before.

"I found you, yes."

"Thank you," she says, putting all the emotion she can into the words. She's not sure why he's unhappy with what he did but she doesn't think she can thank him enough.

"Don't! Don't you dare!" He holds his arm out as if to ward her off and she knows before he speaks that she's missing something again. "You don't remember. You don't know."

"So tell me!" she cries, grabbing his hand so that he can't escape. "Tell me what I don't remember!"

He shakes his head, his eyes screwed shut.

"You saved me!" she says, shaking his arm as if it will make the words sink in. "Why is that so bad?"

"I didn't! I didn't save you! I failed him! He gave me a task and I failed and I had to find a way to redeem myself!" His eyes take on a faraway look as he remembers what she cannot. "I saw you during the raid and I thought - I thought, 'This is it. Bring her back and he'll forgive you.'"

She lifts one hand to his cheek. He starts but she still has a firm grip on his hand and he can't move far. "I don't care why you did it, I still get to thank you." She gives him a thin smile and heads toward the door.

"I don't hate you," he says just before she reaches it. "Not anymore."

She smiles to herself but it dies with his next words.

"But you should still hate me."

* * *

><p><em>reviews=love<br>_


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Since a lot of people have asked if the last chapter was a oneshot I'll say this story has four parts. All are finished and barring some catastrophe all will be posted in a reasonable amount of time. Also, I've changed the summary to something a bit more on the nose to fill in a few gaps. I hope it helps.

**Memento Mori**

"Do you really think my memory will come back?" she asks, fingering the handle of her teacup.

"You've always been a very bright young girl," Snape says and there's no compliment in it, only fact. "If your mind cannot repair itself I doubt anyone's can."

"That's not exactly comforting."

"No, it's not, is it?" he says.

She doesn't ask him any other questions today and he seems more disappointed than usual when he gives her the vial.

* * *

><p>"What did you do?" she asks. Draco is training his eagle owl on the slopes behind the Manor and saw her coming a good five minutes before, so she has no chance to catch him off guard.<p>

"We're not talking about this," he says, eyes trained on the tiny speck among the clouds.

"Why not? No one will talk to me about anything."

"So go bother them."

"I prefer to bother you."

He frowns at her but doesn't pay her any more attention than that. He begins to wander away and she follows.

"When did I become a Death Eater? Was it after my parents were attacked or before? Did I always side with the Dark Lord or was it only a reaction to what happened? I need to know, Draco!"

"No, you don't!" he says firmly.

She grabs his shoulder and tries to pull him around to face her but he won't budge. She marches around him instead and crosses her arms resolutely.

"I want to. That should be enough."

He runs a hand through his hair and looks out at the horizon. "If I answer these questions - and only these - will you stop pestering me?"

She nods. He hasn't said for how long and there's always tomorrow.

"You've only been a Death Eater for a few months. Rumor has it someone in the Order obliviated your parents and sent them to live muggle lives."

She gasps. "Do you think that's what they were trying to do to me?"

He scowls at her.

"Just the first questions, right."

He nods and goes on. "I don't think - I _know_ you didn't always agree with the Dark Lord but … things changed."

She shifts uncomfortably. "Can I tell you a secret?"

He chuckles darkly. "You have secrets now?"

"I may not remember all my secrets, but I can make new ones. Can I trust you or not?"

"Why are you telling me this and not Snape or my mother or your cat?"

"Because you saved me."

His face pales and he looks like he just swallowed some bad fish. "Fine," he says, looking over her shoulder. "Just make it quick. I need to take Aquilla in."

"I don't - I don't know if I do believe in any of this."

His eyes fix on her as they widen. He opens his mouth to speak then cuts off and turns away. "I can't hear this."

"Please!" she says, grabbing his arm. "I have to say this."

He moans but he's stopped trying to get away so she hurries on.

"I hate them so much for what they did."

His eyes close as if he's in pain and she smiles just a little. He does care; no matter the reasons he gives for saving her, he cares.

"And sometimes I'm so angry when we're fighting that I'm afraid I'm becoming a different person. Or maybe I'm becoming who I used to be, I'm not sure. And I just … sometimes I wonder what made me join him. I want to remember so that - so that I can be better. Whoever I am now, I don't know if she's who I want to be. I want to be who I was and I just - I don't know how to do that when no one will help me."

She looks away from him, not wanting to see his reaction. The wind kicked up while she spoke and it's blowing her hair back. She's thankful, it's also blowing away her tears. She hopes she's never felt this lost before because it is not something she wants to repeat.

"I'm not asking you for anything," she says awkwardly, "I just needed to get that out."

Several moments go by before he closes the space between them. His arms wrap around her and he lets her cry on his shoulder.

* * *

><p>The Order is up to something. No one knows what but Hermione isn't allowed on anymore missions. She would be angry but Draco isn't allowed either, so at least she's not alone. Narcissa makes a point of telling her not to leave the grounds and to try to stay within sight of the house. Hermione doesn't point out that she's only left with Narcissa and the others since losing her memory. The woman is obviously worried and doesn't need sarcasm.<p>

Draco comes to the library now. He sits and reads novels while she works and is always willing to distract her with a rant about whichever character is being foolish. It's nice and sweet but she doesn't miss the way he watches her, like he's afraid she'll break at any moment. Is he afraid she'll turn? She wants to tell him not to be. No matter what, those people took her family and her life and she will never forgive that.

He walks her back to her room one night two weeks into their isolation. Everyone else is gone and it's just them and the elves.

"Thank you - for not telling anyone," she says while the portraits watch them pass by.

"There was nothing to tell," he says and there's silence the rest of the way to her room.

"I -" she says, then cuts off, not sure how to put what she wants to say into words. He raises an eyebrow and she rises up on her toes to kiss him. It's quick and she whirls immediately into her room. The last thing she sees as she closes the door is his shocked expression.

* * *

><p>"Did you not like it?" she asks the next day. They've been together in the library since breakfast and the afternoon is almost gone. Clearly he wasn't going to broach the subject and she couldn't stand the wait any longer.<p>

"I - I liked it very much," he says, folding his hands over the closed book in his lap.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "I feel so much better now."

"What do you want me to say? It was fine!"

"Way to boost a girl's self-esteem," she says, going back to her work.

He stands and marches over to her. "First of all, I - I don't really think of you that way, all right?"

She half-turns away from the desk and leans back so that she can both look down her nose at him and show off more of her cleavage.

"Well, start trying. I want a decent review."

"Review?" he laughs. "This isn't some paper you're writing."

"What was number two?"

"Huh?"

"Not thinking of me as a sexual prospect was number one, that means there must at least be a number two."

He huffs. "It wasn't really a kiss. It didn't last long enough for me to do more than be shocked."

"Fine," she says.

He's close enough to her that when she stands they're inches apart. She doesn't give him any time to realize what she's doing but clearly he does because his hands come up just before her mouth meets his.

She doesn't remember ever doing this but she seems to remember how. She bites his lip and he opens his mouth just far enough that her tongue can sneak in. He moans and his hands stop fending her off to instead wrap around her, giving attention to parts of her body she hadn't thought needed it. Her own arms wrap around his neck, pulling his head down.

She didn't consciously direct her body towards the desk but she's half atop it when she feels something pressing on her thigh. She smirks against his lips and pulls away, kissing along his jaw to his ear.

"Never thought of me that way, huh?" she asks.

His head rests against her shoulder and she can feel his laugh reverberating through her. "Maybe a little. All fifth year."

"Only fifth?" she asks as he pulls away. He doesn't go far, lifting her so that she's more comfortable on the desk and keeping her in the circle of his arms.

"I was busy sixth and an idiot before."

"I suppose you're forgiven then. Review?" she asks.

His smile grows and she thinks she likes it. She'll have to make sure it shows up more often.

"You really want to be graded on this?"

"It was my first kiss."

His eyes widen and then he smiles again, realizing what she means. "Then you are a natural."

"Good to know." She pushes him away so she can hop off the desk. "Now go back to reading. I have work to do and we can always have more fun later."

Some emotion flickers across his face. It doesn't stay long enough that she can identify it but it isn't good. His smile returns but is not nearly as bright as before. She is really going to have to fix that.

* * *

><p>They're a secret, though she's not sure why. Draco's answers are all variations on "we're at war" and if she tries to get a better answer he kisses her and it becomes very hard to think clearly.<p>

Snape knows, she's fairly sure. He hasn't seen anything but he narrows his eyes at her more and she found him leaving Draco's room after one of their meetings. It was their first meeting since she and Draco kissed and she was instantly worried that she'd gotten Draco in trouble. He assured her everything was fine and Snape knew nothing. She doesn't quite believe him.

She and Draco still aren't allowed on missions but one ends more fruitful than the others. They've captured a member of the Order.

Hermione rushes to the stairs when she hears but Draco meets her on the second floor landing. Beneath them she can see a redheaded girl being walked down to the dungeons. The girl is cursing every one of them and Hermione recognizes the voice from the battlefield.

Two days later they are still discussing what to do with the girl. She has valuable information to be sure, but no one can agree how to get it. The Dark Lord is away and everyone has an opinion. Snape is brewing Veritaserum and Bellatrix is practicing her cruiciatus on anything that gets too close. She's hit Wormtail twice.

It's a warm, lazy afternoon and Hermione knows it's her best chance to sneak downstairs without being noticed. She feigns sleepiness to escape the library and Draco, and easily makes her way past the guards with a little spellwork. It's dark in the dungeons but she can see the figure huddled at the back corner of the cell.

"If you've come to ask me more pointless questions, you can go to hell," the girl says. She doesn't even bother to turn around.

"I'm not sure what I've come to do yet," Hermione says, gripping her wand.

The girl whirls, scrambling to her feet and gripping the bars of the cell so tight it looks like she's trying to pull herself through. "Hermione?" she gasps.

"You know my name."

"Of course I-"

Hermione cuts her off sharply. "I didn't. After what you people did to me I couldn't even remember that!" She doesn't like the sound of her own voice now and the only comfort is that the girl doesn't seem to either.

The girl's expression is slowly melting into horror. "Hermione? What are you talking about?"

"Stop it! Don't you dare pretend that you don't know!"

"Hermione, I-"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Draco is taking the steps down two at a time.

"Just give me a minute," Hermione says tersely.

"No!" Draco snaps. "It'll only take a few minutes for the guards to get Crookshanks off of Wormtail. Now come on!" He grabs her hand to drag her up.

"Oh my God!" the girl gasps. She repeats the phrase again and again while Draco pulls Hermione out of the dungeons. Hermione looks back once and sees the girl's eyes fixed on the exposed Dark Mark on Hermione's arm.

* * *

><p>The walk back to her room is a long one. Draco will not speak to her, nor will he let go of her. When they finally get there he practically throws her inside before slamming the door behind him.<p>

"What were you thinking?" he snarls. She's never seen him so mad.

"I don't know," she says quietly. She's sitting on the edge of her bed, the blankets fisted in her hands.

"Don't give me that! You know! You always know bloody everything! So tell me!"

"I don't know!" she yells. "I don't know everything anymore, I'm not that girl! They took her! Don't you understand that? They didn't just steal my parents or my memories, they stole _me!_"

"Hermione…" he says softly, his voice breaking.

She shakes her head and presses the heels of her hands to her eyes. She can feel the tears flowing and hates herself, hates the Order, hates everyone and everything.

Draco's fingers tentatively touch her elbows. When she doesn't fight him he rubs her arms as he pulls her close.

Maybe she doesn't hate everyone.

"I'm sorry," he says into her hair. "I'm so sorry." He sounds so sad, so sincere.

She wraps her arms around him and cries into his shoulder.

* * *

><p>She wakes up just as Draco's arm pulls out from under her.<p>

"Go back to sleep," he says. There's barely any light left in the room. She must have cried for a long time.

"No," she says, grabbing his hand before he can pull away. "Stay."

"It's late," he points out.

"I know. Stay."

He shakes his head. "Hermione, we-"

She sits up and takes his other hand. "I don't mean like that." She's thankful for the darkness that hides her blush. "I don't want to be alone anymore."

He nods hesitantly and kicks off his shoes. Hers are still on and she pulls them off, tossing them into the corner. There's a few seconds of silent disagreement about covers but eventually they compromise. She snuggles under and he lays on top.

He's tense beside her, his body ramrod straight save for his legs, crossed at the ankles.

"Nothing is going to happen that we don't want to happen," she assures him.

He closes his eyes and lets out a long breath. "That's kind of the problem."

She worries her lip. She knows she wants him here but if he doesn't want to be then maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Thank you," she says.

"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" he asks, not opening his eyes.

"For getting me out of there, I mean. I don't know what I would have done but it would probably have been really stupid."

He snorts. "You hit stupid just by going down there. Anything after that would break the scale."

She pulls her arm out from under the blankets and rests her hand on his shoulder. If he relaxed at all while they talked it's instantly undone. He shifts uncomfortably and their arms brush.

"Go to sleep," he says when he finally settles.

She nods and does as she's told.

* * *

><p>Everything is wrong. The darkness is choking her. Pain scorches up her spine, following invisible pathways to every nerve in her body. She tries to scream but chokes on it and goes into a coughing fit. She rolls to the side, nearly falling off the bed before strong arms catch her.<p>

"Hermione," a voice says. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

The coughing won't stop. Every shadow she sees out of the corner of her eye makes her flinch. One arm has wrapped around the front of her shoulders while the other is rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"It's okay," the voice says. "It's okay."

Just when she thinks she must be coughing up blood because there can't be anything left in her lungs, it stops and she's left sobbing. The arm at her back wraps around her stomach, pulling her close against a warm body.

The voice is whispering comforting words but she can hear the fear deep in them.

"I-" she gasps in pain- "I need my medicine."

"Okay." She feels a kiss to her hair and then the body is reaching over and around her. A few fumbling moments later glass presses against her lips and she opens her mouth, drinking down a few sips of the cool liquid. Instantly the pain fades, the rattle in her breathing disappears, and the shadows lose their menacing quality. She sighs and rolls over.

"Draco," she breathes, smiling. She didn't even know it was him until she saw him.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his wide eyes shining in the dark.

She nods sleepily. "I'll be fine now."

"You still have nightmares?"

"Yeah." The word lasts longer than it should. She doesn't realize she's closed her eyes until his fingers brush through her hair. "Draco?" she asks.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

His fingers jerk and she winces when he accidentally pulls at her hair.

"I don't know yet if I mean it like some big, romantic love or if I just mean I love you as my friend, and maybe it's just because you're all I've got, but that doesn't make it any less true. You don't have to say anything, I just - I just wanted you to know."

She falls asleep with the pleasant weight of his gaze falling over her. She doesn't wake when he sneaks out more than an hour later. His eyes are haunted and he kisses her goodbye with a quiet, "I love you too."

* * *

><p><em>reviews=love<em>


	3. Chapter 3

**Memento Mori**

Draco stays with Hermione every night for a week and the Dark Lord still hasn't returned. He's hunting down the Potter boy in Wales and will not give anyone permission to interrogate the girl until he returns to oversee matters himself.

"Put your shoes on," Draco says, waltzing into her room as if he owns the place - which, she realizes in hindsight, he does. "And your coat. It's chilly out."

"A stroll through the gardens?" she asks, thinking of all the work she has to do and how much she really just wants to go outside with Draco.

"It's a surprise," he says with a smile. She's never seen him so happy without some sort of inducement from her and is eager to see what's brought this on.

She laughs when he pulls her back into an alcove to hide from his aunt and he smothers the sound with a kiss.

When they reach the path in the woods she says, "You're being very secretive for a trip to the observatory."

"I told you, it's a surprise."

Her steps slow and she glances back at the Manor. "You do remember your mother saying to stay within sight of the house, right?"

"We won't be long," he assures and pulls her deeper into the woods.

When the trees open up he stops and turns. She doesn't quite understand the look in his eyes but he pulls her to him for a slow kiss. He leans his forehead against hers and hugs her tight. After a long moment he steps back and leans casually against one of the trees.

"Go on," he says, nodding towards the building.

She gives him a questioning smile.

"Ladies first."

She laughs and runs to the building. The door is unlocked and she steps inside, wondering just what she'll find. The room isn't empty this time.

"You!" Hermione cries and reaches for her wand as the red-haired witch turns.

Hermione's pocket is empty, her wand is missing. She has to warn Draco. She just begins to turn when a voice says, "Stupefy," and she falls into darkness.

* * *

><p>"Do you know who I am?" the man asks gently. He is her first visitor. The Order has stuck her in a small room. No windows, only one door, a magical light embedded in the ceiling so there's no hope of using it as a weapon. There's a mattress on the floor and nothing else save four bare walls.<p>

Hermione turns away from him. She has her knees pulled up to her chest and focuses on a stain on the wall. Out of the corner of her eye she sees him close his eyes in pain before speaking again.

"Hermione, please. You must speak to me."

"Don't!" she says. "Don't talk to me like we're friends!"

He kneels down on the edge of the mattress. "Do you recognize me at all, Miss Granger?" he asks carefully.

She scoffs. "No. Not that you should be surprised." Her hands begin to shake and she grips her knees tighter to stop them. Are they going to do it again? And what about Draco? Did they get him too this time? Have they already Obliviated him?

"What do you mean?" the man asks. "Why wouldn't I be surprised?"

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" she demands. "How much can you possibly take from me?"

The man stares at her for a long moment before standing and excusing himself. She rolls her eyes at the small show of decency. The moment the door closes behind him she rushes over and presses her ear against the crack between floor and door.

"You should have told us about this sooner, Severus," the man says and Hermione holds back a gasp. She can't believe it. She won't.

But it is indeed Severus' drawl that answers. "Had you known, you would have attacked with less fervor for fear of hurting her. That's why you sent Potter away, isn't it? You said you recognized her during the full moon and that's about when the boy disappeared. You didn't want him killing his best friend by accident."

"It would destroy him and we both know it. Which is exactly why-"

"I have been doing my best to repair the situation from the other side. She is being difficult, however. Just like a Gryffindor. When I expect her to do one thing she does the opposite."

"So you know how to fix this?"

"In theory."

She hears someone take a step away from the door and then someone else move towards it. She scrambles back to the bed and takes the same position as before, with her head turned fully away from the door. Whichever one of them enters, he takes a long time after the door is closed to speak.

"You heard all of that, hm?"

Snape. And he's probably just read her mind too, bastard.

"You're a traitor," she says.

"The term you are looking for is 'double-agent,'" he says calmly. "Though I have always preferred the simple 'spy.'"

She looks at him, furious tears in her eyes. "Did you help them erase my memory? Was it your idea? Have your damned potions been keeping me from remembering?"

He rolls his eyes. "Even when you're a complete idiot, you're still the smartest witch of your age. You were bound to get one thing right. Yes, my potions have been keeping you from remembering."

She reels back as if struck.

"I was not lying when I told you that your mind was stronger than most. It was a very powerful spell that cut off your memories, but you are a very powerful witch and your mind has always been your greatest weapon."

"You're going to do it again, aren't you?" she asks dully. "Have you already done it to Draco? Or are you holding him somewhere, trying to get information from him?"

Snape pulls a vial, just like all the others, from his robes and tosses it onto the mattress. "Take it after the nightmares wake you up, not before you go to bed." He turns to go.

"Do you really think I'd drink that after all you've told me?"

"It will ease your nightmares, as it always has."

"You're not going to obliviate me again?" she asks quietly.

"No," he says at the door.

Even more quietly she asks, "What about Draco?"

Snape leaves without answering.

* * *

><p>She goes to sleep determined to see the night through without taking Snape's potion. She doesn't even touch the vial except to kick it off the end of the mattress so that it rolls across the floor to rest against the wall. She doesn't allow herself to think that, were she truly serious about not taking it, she would smash it.<p>

The nightmare comes and it somehow hurts more now that she's grown used to having Draco hold her through the pain. It rips through her, wave upon wave, until she thinks it will never end. Then it does and she realizes she's on the floor, the vial in her hand. She screams, furious at her own weakness, and slams the vial into the floorboards. One small bead of pain hits her cheek but she pays it no mind. She beats the shattered glass with her arms, hating herself more than ever.

* * *

><p>She wakes up and her head is in the lap of a red-headed woman who's singing her nursery rhymes and petting her hair. Hermione scrambles away until her back meets the wall. The woman looks like the girl from the dungeons. She stares at Hermione like her heart is breaking and Hermione doesn't want to know why. She doesn't want to feel sorry for these people.<p>

"You hurt yourself pretty badly," the woman says finally. Her gaze is fixed on Hermione's bare left forearm. "I'll do my best to repair your coat but I'm not promising anything."

"I don't want anything from you," Hermione snarls.

The woman flinches and blinks furiously. "I brought you some food," she says brightly, nodding to a tray at the end of the mattress.

The smell of stew hits Hermione and her stomach rumbles. "I won't eat it," she says.

"Oh, please," the woman begs. "It's your favorite, sweetheart."

"Stop it! Stop talking to me like you care about me!"

She hugs herself and turns away, into the wall.

"Hermione," the woman begins.

"_Leave me alone!_"

She hears crying after the door closes.

* * *

><p>Snape returns and gives her a new vial.<p>

"Take it back," Hermione says. "I don't want it."

"I can't."

"It's easy. You just pick it back up, put it in your pocket, and _leave_."

Snape kneels down and his voice, always severe, becomes even more dangerous. "I cannot take it back. Just as I must ensure that you are always given the potion."

He leaves without another word.

* * *

><p>She can't do it. She tries, she really does, but no matter how much she tells herself that she can make it through the pain, she just can't stop herself.<p>

She isn't even sure anymore if that's what she really wants. Snape has her completely confused and she almost wishes the Order would just do whatever they're planning to already.

The door opens and she doesn't bother to look up. Snape has already come and gone and she really doesn't care who else it might be. She's on her stomach on the mattress, rolling the vial on the floor between her hands. A weight settles on the mattress and she wills herself not to show how scared she is.

"You're not eating."

Draco!

She turns, not sure she can believe this.

"Don't cry. Please," he says. He reaches out to wipe away her tears and she shoots into his arms, hugging him tight.

"I thought they'd Obliviated you," she says into his shirt.

"No," he says. "No, I'm fine."

She pulls back so she can look at him when she speaks. "I'm sorry! It's all my fault! I could have stopped her but I must have left my wand in my room. I'm so sorry!"

He stops her from hugging him again.

"No, you didn't," he says sadly.

"What? What do you mean? I-"

"I took your wand."

Hermione pulls slowly away from him. "Why?" she asks once they're not longer touching.

"Because you need to remember."

"You think working with the people who made me forget will help me remember?"

"They didn't make you forget. We did. _He_ did."

Hermione shakes her head in denial but Draco doesn't notice. He's shaking his own in shame.

"I'm sorry. I thought - I didn't think, really I didn't. I knew if I brought you to him he'd kill you and I didn't want to think beyond getting back in his good graces. I never thought he'd do this to you. I swear."

He reaches for her hand on the mattress and she snatches it away.

"I don't know what you're doing," she says. "I don't know if it's even you doing this or if they've tricked you - but I want you to leave."

"No," he says.

"This won't work, whatever this is. I won't do something just because you-"

He reaches for the vial and holds it in the air so she can see the clear liquid inside. "If you take this before you go to sleep, you won't have any nightmares at all. You probably wouldn't remember any of those little things that pop into your head during the day and you'd be able to live as the Dark Lord wished, with no idea of who you were before you began serving him. If you don't take it at all … your mind will have a chance to heal itself."

"Why should I trust you?"

He winces. She's ready for him to say that she trusted him two days ago, enough that she walked straight into a trap like some lovesick fool. Instead he says, "Because you hate me."

She blinks in surprise and he smiles with sadness in his eyes.

"And isn't that what I always told you?"

* * *

><p>He won't leave her, says Crookshanks would never forgive him. She doesn't laugh but she's thankful all the same. She misses falling asleep with him beside her, pathetic as that is given the circumstances, and she knows she'll never be able to keep from taking the potion on her own.<p>

"If everything you say is true," she says when the light in the ceiling dims and they're laying awkwardly beside one another, "then why would you keep giving me the potion?"

"Snape swore," Draco answers readily. "Not an Unbreakable, but if he doesn't keep his promise, the Dark Lord will know."

She hums deep in her throat. It's a good reason. Not that she believes it.

"Who am I?" she asks.

"You'll know soon enough."

"I want you to tell me."

He sighs heavily. Out of the corner of her eye she can just see his face scrunch up. "Your best friends are Harry Potter and the youngest brother of the girl I stopped you from hexing into oblivion in the dungeons."

"_The_ Harry Potter? Try to start with a believable lie."

"I'm serious. That's why I thought he'd kill you. It's the perfect way to get to his greatest enemy." He pauses a moment, reorganizing his thoughts. "You're muggleborn."

She scoffs. "So my parents weren't sent to live as muggles, they really are muggles."

He's silent for nearly a minute. "He tortured you. For _so long_," he whispers. The pain in his voice makes her turn her head and she sees a tear falling down from his eye towards his hair. "He read your mind and laughed, told everyone that you'd made your parents forget you just to protect them from him. That's when he decided to do it, I think. He wanted to take what you'd done to protect those you love and use it to hurt you. And you really were always the smartest. He probably wanted to use you."

"I still don't believe you," she says quietly, but it's getting harder. He's still Draco and he's still so sad.

"Go to sleep," he says.

Their fingers are barely touching and she fights the urge to take his hand.

* * *

><p>She wakes up screaming. Every breath she takes is agony. Her arms and legs won't stop hurting no matter how much she kicks and lashes out and she wishes they were just <em>gone<em> so that it would stop. She's held tight against a chest and a voice is whispering to her, telling her everything will be okay. Her head arches back over his shoulder in another scream.

She needs her medicine, begs for it when he won't let her go.

"No," he says firmly.

She scratches at his arms. Flesh gives way and she feels his chest collapse in a gasp of pain. She's pulled back and she feels when his back slams into the wall. He uses it for support to get a better hold on her.

"_Please!_" she screams. The pain is getting worse. She can't see anymore and her left arm is one abiding ache that she swears will never end.

She fights until pain and exhaustion wear at her and she collapses, unable even to sleep. When she hasn't moved for what feels like hours, he finally lays her down, never loosening his grip. Slowly, so slowly, she rolls over, curling into him. She grips his shirt and buries her face in his chest, biting the fabric as a new sort of agony hits her.

She's happy and sad and scared and curious and annoyed and every other emotion under the sun in quick succession until she thinks she might go mad.

Through it all he whispers quiet words of comfort in her ear. She clings to them.

* * *

><p>She hasn't slept but she also hasn't been quite awake for some time. The warm body beside her pulls away and brings her back to consciousness. She rolls over, propping herself up on her elbows to watch as he pulls his shoes on. He ignores her until he's ready to leave and then smiles down at her.<p>

"I know," he says, nearly smiling, "you hate me."

He knocks on the door once. It opens and Remus steps inside. He gives Draco a curt nod and the boy disappears into the hall.

"Remus," Hermione says. She can't believe she didn't know him, can't believe the way she spoke to him. "I-"

"I'm so sorry," he says before she can.

She's not sure which of them hugs the other but they're both crying when they separate. He takes her up through the house to his office on the second floor. They don't see anyone along the way and she's sure they're being watched.

"We should never have let this happen," he says once they're behind closed doors again.

"I was careless-"

"You're never careless," he counters. He falls into his chair and runs a hand through is graying hair before looking at her with haunted eyes. "I nearly killed you in that battle."

"But you didn't."

His smile holds no mirth and he gestures to one of the guest chairs. She gladly takes it.

"I know this will be difficult," he says, "so we'll go slow. Just the big things for now, anything important that you saw or heard."

She takes a deep breath that does little to calm her and begins.

Her first yawn comes hours later and he cuts her off immediately. "You've had a long few days," he says with a smile. "Get some sleep. Your room's just where you left it."

"Thank you."

She's halfway to the door when he stops her.

"I nearly forgot." He pulls open the top drawer of his desk. Atop folded maps are two wands. He takes one out and hands it to her. Holding it again returns some of the peace she's so desperate to find but she can't ignore the small pain in her chest when he slams the other wand out of sight.

"Where is he?" she asks, speaking slowly so that the words won't shake.

"Here." He holds up a hand to cut her off. "You know I cannot tell you anymore than that. I'm sorry but not yet."

She nods in understanding. Draco is still the enemy and Remus still can't trust her, not after all that's happened.

* * *

><p>She has a real nightmare, a memory of chains and Crucios and dark laughter. She isn't fully awake until she's locked in the bathroom down the hall, her hands clutching the seat of the toilet while bile spills out of her. She's crying and gripping the porcelain like a lifesaver. A cold sweat's broken out and her hair and pajamas are sticking to her skin. She takes deep, gasping breaths while she rests her forehead on her arm.<p>

When she finally thinks she can stand again she begins pushing herself up only to stop dead. There's blood under her nails and in the wrinkles of her fingers. She holds up her right and sees her fingerprints in stark red relief. It takes her a minute to remember. It's Draco's blood. How has she not noticed it all this time?

Her clothes come off quickly and she turns the shower on full blast. The pressure is bruising and the water's so hot her skin turns pink almost instantly. She scrubs her hands fiercely, letting the water run over her head and back so that she can pretend she isn't sobbing.

When she catches sight of the Mark her breath hitches. She grabs the roughest of all the sponges various Order members have left behind. She knows it won't come off, understands intellectually that it's magically sealed into her flesh and she'll never be rid of it, be rid of _him_. She doesn't care. She just wants it gone, wants the dead eyes staring up at her washed away. She wants it to hurt and knows the moment she thinks it that she's more mad now than she ever was on the battlefield. Still, she doesn't stop until the water at her feet is red.

* * *

><p><em>reviews=love<em>


	4. Chapter 4

AN: This is the final chapter. I hope you've all enjoyed the story and that the ending is as satisfying to you as it is to me.

**Memento Mori**

Molly has made all her favorites for breakfast and no one will hear her apologies. She caught Ginny in the hall early in the day, after she'd healed her arm. The two hugged and cried and swore they were still friends. Hermione doesn't quite believe it.

Ginny can forgive. She never really saw what Hermione became and she, more than anyone, knows what it is to be used by Voldemort. But Hermione remembers wanting to kill her, to make her scream and weep and beg. She remembers hating her with everything she had and now cannot seem to look her in the eye at the table.

Hermione is filled in on all the best stories she missed. She forces a smile when they talk about battles she remembers from the other side and it becomes brittle when the twins mention "that mad Death Eater who's giving Bellatrix a run for her money."

She keeps one eye on the door but knows she won't see white-blonde hair.

With all the talk breakfast bleeds into lunch and it's solidly the afternoon when Remus comes to collect her for more debriefing. The twins whine that they want to hear all the Death Eater stories but at their mother's stern look both go quiet. It's almost worse than just telling them, Hermione thinks.

* * *

><p>Days go by and soon she's told Remus nearly everything. They've gained valuable information, as everyone keeps saying. They always cut short there since no one will say whether or not it was worth it. She's not sure she wants to know which they'd choose.<p>

Once or twice her talks with Remus veer into uncomfortable territory and he pats her hand and tells her it's okay, she doesn't have to talk about it until she's ready. He knows, she's sure, about her and Draco. Neither of them mention him directly but Remus always seems to know who she means when she says "we" in her recounting.

The day after she can think of nothing more to tell Remus - nothing more she _can_ tell him - she has nothing to do. She's come to depend on the routine of going to him so that she's kept busy.

She balances the twins' books - their business is still doing well despite the war - and plays a dull game of wizarding chess with Ginny but cannot keep her mind from wandering back to long days in the Manor. She wants work to do but Remus insists she rest her mind. Clearly he's confusing her with someone else. That, or he still doesn't trust her.

She decides to read when nothing else will keep her interest and heads up to her room. She sees Tonks ahead of her on the stairs, carrying a tray of food and is instantly curious. Molly won't let anyone take meals outside the kitchen without very good reason.

Hermione sneaks along behind the older woman, knowing that spying is not something she should be doing when everyone's still worried she's in the enemy's pocket. When Tonks stops at the third door in a hallway, Hermione ducks quickly into the second, lest she be seen. She sees her mistake instantly.

Buckbeak narrows his eyes at her, his wings opening as far as they can in the small room. Her heart racing, Hermione bows. After several tense moments, Buckbeak does the same. Hermione lets out a sigh of relief and strokes the beast's neck on her way to the wall. She presses her ear to a crack that was no doubt caused by Buckbeak's tantrums.

"Do you ever even move?" Tonks asks. "Every day I bring you a tray and you're still sitting in that exact spot."

"I like this spot," Draco says, his voice closer than Tonks'. Hermione's breath hitches. "It's finally comfortable."

A few minutes pass where Hermione can't hear anything at all and then, "She's doing better."

"I didn't ask," Draco says.

"But you were dying to," Tonks sing-songs. "Really, she's doing a lot better. Thank you."

"I didn't do it for you," he snaps. Hermione hears the door open before he adds, "I was just tired of having her around the Manor."

"If you're going to lie to yourself," Tonks says, "at least try to be convincing."

* * *

><p>It doesn't take much to alter the wards on Draco's door so that she is among those allowed in and out. Once done, it takes her a full day to decide to go in.<p>

He's got a room much like hers. Bed, dresser, bookshelf, desk. He's sitting in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, a book open in his lap. He looks up when the door opens and starts. He's halfway to his feet when he seems to reconsider and settles on the edge of the bed.

"No need for manners now that I'm a mudblood again?" she asks, shutting the door behind her.

"You were always a mudblood," he says without scorn. "If you curse me I'd prefer to fall on the bed."

"I didn't come here to curse you," she says quickly.

"Just like you didn't go into the dungeons to kill the Weasley girl."

"Ginny," Hermione breathes, wishing he was wrong. "Her name is Ginny."

"I don't exactly care."

"Why?" she asks. "Why did you do it?"

He sneers derisively. "I told you. I needed to get back in his good graces."

"No!" she snaps and jumps a little at her own voice. She swallows and quietly asks, "Why did you bring me back here?"

He stares at her for a long moment before scooting back onto the bed. He resumes his place, just as he was when she came in. "Get out," he says calmly. "Before someone comes in and thinks we're plotting."

She doesn't question how he knows she's not supposed to be there. She leaves without another word.

* * *

><p>Hermione wakes up one morning with Crookshanks lying on her pillow. She doesn't know how he got through the closed door and doesn't care. He lets her hug him too tight and cry into his fur. He doesn't leave her side for two days and even then it's only because he's leaving her in capable hands.<p>

Harry and Ron return. They burst into her room and there's hugging and crying and she doesn't think she's ever been so happy to see them. She pulls Harry down beside her on the bed and Ron leans against one of the bedposts, taking in the sight of her.

"We didn't know," he says. "We were sure they'd-" His voice breaks and he looks away.

Harry takes her hand on the covers and squeezes it. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Hermione assures him quickly. "_I'm_ sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Harry begins.

"You were in that hole for months!" Ron rages. He comes over to take her free hand, her left. "I can't imagine what they must have done…."

He holds her hand tightly between his and bends his head over it. She think he might kiss it. She's glad he doesn't. It's suddenly hit her that no one told them. It probably wasn't deliberate, leaving the task to her. Everyone must have either been too uncomfortable or hoped someone else had or would.

She carefully pulls her hand away from his body, twisting it so that her forearm is up. Ron lets her but doesn't release his hold.

"It wasn't what you think," she says. "It was at first but …"

Harry rubs her back comfortingly. "You don't have to tell us."

She nods. "I do. I really do." She reaches for the cuff of her long sleeve with shaking fingers. The weather's been warm but she won't wear anything else. She's not sure if that's to spare everyone else the sight of it, or just herself. Her fingers twist around the cuff and she knows she's putting this off. "He made me forget - _everything_. So that - so that I'd help him."

Ron's hand squeezes hers and the pressure abruptly disappears when she pulls the sleeve down.

"No." It's barely a puff of air coming from Harry but it breaks her heart. She lets her arm fall to her lap and keeps her eyes on the ugly tattoo. She can't look at them.

Ron makes a noise that might be a curse then goes stumbling into the hall. The bathroom door slams open and they hear him. It lasts for several minutes and Harry reaches across Hermione to pull her sleeve down as Ron's footsteps come back down the hall.

She waits until Ron slumps in her desk chair before speaking. She explains everything as best she can without crying or running to the bathroom herself. When she's done they forgive her and she can't take it anymore.

"I was going to kill Ginny," she says and both of them go even paler. "I was. I would have if Dr- Mal-" She screws her eyes shut. She doesn't even know how to talk about him anymore. "If he hadn't stopped me."

"You didn't know," Harry says.

"You thought we'd hurt you. It's - understandable," Ron says weakly.

But she knows it's really not.

* * *

><p>She can't sleep. Crookshanks tries his best to comfort her but her mind just won't stop. She keeps remembering battles when she almost killed her friends and the haunted looks in her two best friends' eyes whenever they see her.<p>

She tells herself she's just going to wander the halls until she can't keep her eyes open any longer but is unsurprised when her feet take her to Draco's door.

She walks right in and climbs atop the bed.

"Wha- what's-" he says groggily.

"Shut up," she says quietly because anything else will be a sob. "Just shut up."

She lays on her side, her back to his front with the blankets between them. He's half propped up on an elbow and she knows he's debating with himself. He doesn't have many options though and eventually settles. His arm wraps around her waist and he pulls her tight against him. She cries into his pillow.

* * *

><p>Harry and Ron join Remus in his take-a-break mentality. Hermione thinks she might scream. It's just like being holed up at the Manor but worse because now she <em>knows<em> why everyone's giving her strange looks. She actually misses working for Voldemort, sad as that is; at least then she had something to _do_. And the being distracted bits weren't bad either, she remembers with a blush she's not sure she wants.

She's left with little to do except wander the old house and that is more a punishment than anything else.

"Why are we even keeping him around?" one of the twins asks. Hermione freezes just beyond the kitchen door.

"Because he's been useful," Remus says calmly.

"No," Ron says coldly, "Hermione's been useful. That bastard is the reason she had to go through hell."

"He has been at least as useful as she has. He knows more about how the Dark Lord thinks than we ever could have imagined. He's sat in on dozens of meetings. And he has a fantastic memory. He can recite whole conversations, recreate the layouts of homes and hideouts he's only been in once with near perfect accuracy. He's been invaluable."

"He's also a bit of a liability," Arthur says quietly and Hermione hears Molly begin to tut. "No, no," Arthur goes on quickly, "hear me out. The Death Eaters are desperate to get him back. Snape's assured them that Hermione's got her memory back so she's useless to them, but Draco's not. The attacks have been coming quicker than ever since we took that boy in."

"We should 'ave left him," Hagrid mutters sadly, "le' him go back instead o' takin' him captive."

"We couldn't have done that," Remus sighs.

"Why not?" Ron demands.

Tonks answers. "It was part of the deal. He wanted to be sure she was all right."

"Why would he care?" Harry asks quietly.

Hermione doesn't wait to hear the answer. She spins on her heel and races back to her room where Crookshanks is waiting.

* * *

><p>She spends all her nights with Draco. He waits up for her and doesn't say a word when she lays down atop the covers. Crookshanks follows her sometimes and Draco always gives him an affectionate scratch before they drift off to sleep.<p>

"Why did you do it?" she asks one night, deciding it's been long enough that she can try again to get him to talk.

"It was a good deal. I have all the time I want to read now."

"Don't joke. Why did you really?"

She thinks she feels him kiss her hair but isn't sure.

"You hate me," he says quietly.

"I really don't." She rolls over to face him. He's even paler in the dim light. "I want to. Sometimes. It'd be easier to be who I was before."

"So do it," he says quietly. "For once in your life do the easy thing."

"I don't think I want to."

His expression is pained. "I'm a Death Eater!" he hisses.

"So am I." It's the first time she's said it aloud. The world doesn't shatter. The stars don't fall from the sky. It's a fact. A sad fact of war but a fact all the same.

"You're confused," he says, rolling onto his back. "You're grasping at straws. Give yourself time. In a few months you'll remember why you hate me."

She props herself up beside him so that she can look down at his face. "I remember why I hated you _now. _The difference is that I also remember why I loved you."

A muscle in his cheek spasms and he meets her gaze coldly. "You were Obliviated then. You didn't know what you were doing."

"I knew exactly what I was doing."

"You didn't know who you were doing it _with_ then!" he yells, sitting up and backing into the pillows with an angry huff.

Hermione rises as well and sits back on her heels, watching him carefully. "I know-"

"Don't tell me what you know! You don't know a damn thing anymore! You're broken and you're so eager to piece yourself back together that you don't care if you fuck it up by putting everything together wrong. In a few months you'll have to break yourself apart again just to fix the mess you're making now and I'd rather not be broken along with you, thanks."

She breathes deeply. "I know who you are," she says. "I know what you've done - what you've done to _me_. I also know what you've done _for_ me. You helped them save me. You didn't have to. It wasn't hurting you to have me there."

He scoffs quietly and looks towards the window. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

She opens her mouth to go on but he sends her a quelling look.

"You don't come here to talk, you come here to sleep. If you want to change the arrangement the answer is a definitive _no_. Either shut up or leave." His tone is icy and she feels a chill beneath her long sleeves.

She goes.

* * *

><p>She marches into Remus' office after breakfast the next morning. She's had all night to think about this and she's sure what she's doing is right.<p>

"Let him out," she says.

Remus' smile at seeing her drops and he waits for her explanation.

"Draco," she says, "I want you to let him out. You said he's been useful to you and he hasn't made any attempts to escape - unless you're keeping them from me."

"I'm not sure I understand," Remus says slowly. He gestures to a chair but she ignores it.

"You're keeping him locked up in that room when all he's done since bringing me back is help us. He should at least be allowed to move around the house. I'm not saying give him back his wand but at least give him _some_ freedoms."

Remus takes a moment to form his response and she hopes that's a good sign. He starts and stops several times before finally asking, "What brought this on?"

"It doesn't matter," she says quickly and doesn't miss his curious look. "I just think he's a better person than you're giving him credit for, than any of us ever gave him credit for."

"I agree," Remus says so readily that it gives her pause.

"You do?"

"Yes. Very much, in fact. Which is why Mr. Malfoy has been free to move about this house since the day you got your memory back."

"What?" Hermione asks quietly.

Remus smiles, she's sure at the shocked expression on her face. "And, also, we never took his wand."

"But I saw it!" she says and jumps up to open the drawer Remus kept hers in when she first returned. "It was right here." Sure enough, Draco's wand is exactly where she last saw it.

"That," Remus says sadly, "is Sirius' wand. It was part of our original deal with Mr. Malfoy that he be allowed to keep his, though he was kept in a room warded against all magic during his first few days here."

"Then why has he been locked up in that room this whole time? And why is the door warded?"

Remus really does smile now. "The room," he says slowly, "is warded against you. Or I imagine it was, is more likely. Might as well take the spells down now, no point in wasting magic when you've broken through."

"Why would I be-" Hermione cuts off, shaking her head. She holds up her hands as if to physically stop her thoughts from spinning out of control. "What was the original deal?" she asks.

"Rather basic really," Remus says. "He and Snape brought us Ginny and yourself, and in exchange the Order assures that all possible will be done to pardon the Malfoys at the end of the war. At first I thought we'd only be able to get Draco off - and that just barely - but he's been invaluable to us. We wouldn't be doing nearly as well as we are without him, we'd certainly have more casualties at any rate."

"So why hasn't he left his room? And how did you even approach him with this, anyway? Did Snape do it for you?"

Remus looks down at his desk, not really seeing the papers piled there. "I think," he says slowly, "these are questions you should put to Mr. Malfoy."

"But-"

He holds up a hand. "Had it ever crossed his mind that you might not go straight back to hating him the moment your memory was restored, I believe he would have made me promise not to answer these questions." He nods towards the door. "If that is all?"

* * *

><p>"Why?" she asks, slamming the door behind her.<p>

Draco only gives her a moment's consideration before returning to his book. "As I said last night, you come here to sleep."

"Why did you help me? Why won't you leave this room when you're free to? And why did you approach the Order?"

The last one is what really gets his attention. She's not sure when exactly on the walk up here she figured it out but she's certain it's true. The look on his face is all the confirmation she needs.

He transforms it into a sneer. "Why would I ever-"

"Don't lie to me, Draco. This was your idea, bringing me here. Snape saw me every week for months, he could have brought me back if the Order really had a plan. And they did!" She's just realizing this, putting things together as she talks and smiling because she knows she's going to win this fight. "When Remus figured out who I was he let it go on. They had to be weighing me against Snape's intelligence and decided to just keep hoping I'd eventually question the potion and refuse to take it. But then you came in and decided that wasn't good enough. I deserve to know why."

Draco watches her sadly. She just begins thinking he might refuse to answer when he sets his book aside and crosses the room to her.

"One more," he breathes just before reaching her and she's not sure what he means.

He kisses her. She's missed this more than she can believe. She lifts her arms to wrap around his neck but he steps away and they drop in shock.

"I love you," he says quietly. "I know that's not fair and I know you didn't really love me but that's why I had to do it. I knew that if I kept you like that you - the real you - would never forgive me and I couldn't ignore that. I stay here because I know I'll only remind you of what happened, of that person who wasn't really you."

He seems to deflate now that he's spoken and moves back to sit weakly on the bed. He stares at the floorboards.

She knows if she doesn't speak soon he'll kick her out again so she begins, even though she hasn't quite finished organizing her thoughts. "Last night I said I loved you before. Back then I loved you because you were all I had."

His head snaps to the side like she's struck him.

"But now I have my friends all around me and all I can think about is you up here in this room. And you're hiding because of me!"

His eyes close and he hisses his words out as if he's in pain. "Tell me what to do. Tell me what to do to make you happy, to make this right, and I'll do it."

She crosses the room in two quick strides and turns his head up to meet hers. She kisses him slowly, chastely, and leans her forehead against his when she's done.

"Let me love you," she begs.

He blinks up at her in shock. She watches his grey eyes for any sign of an answer. He reaches up and his hands dig into her hair, holding her to him for another kiss.

It doesn't make everything better. She knows her friends will not approve. She knows she'll still have nightmares and days when she hates herself more than she can bear. She knows Draco will still think that she's just using him to fix herself and that she'll break them both in a few short months. She doesn't know if he'll be right. But she does know that, no matter what, this is good. If she can take just one good thing from all that's happened, she knows she'll heal.

* * *

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